Kitty McKay
by ImaginaryGoddess
Summary: Rodney's cat misses him... but how does his neighbour feel? Oneshot. NEW! Look out for the sequel 'Suddenly Rodney'.


The cat still misses him. Even after all this time. It gets to a certain time of day – around the time that he used to come home and the cat just seems sad. She curls up in a corner with her favourite toy and won't be coaxed out for anything. Not by food or anything. She won't eat after that so I make sure I feed her well before late afternoon. By morning she seems okay again until the next evening when he once again doesn't come home.

She wasn't like this the time he left her with me before. When he went off to Russia for a few months. Sure she was extra excited when he returned but while he was gone she seemed happy enough with my company. No signs of distress whatsoever. This time, however, from the moment he left she has missed him. It's like she knows that he isn't coming back this time.

He said as much to me when he asked me to take care of the cat again. That he was going far, far away and he didn't know when – or if – he'd be back. He seemed a strange mix of scared, excited and sad. Different to the Russian trip where he seemed extremely pissed off to be leaving at all. Not that I cared at the time how he felt or where he was going. All I cared about was his cat. I love that cat. As for him – well, I just considered him to be an arrogant jerk.

God, he annoyed me so much. How one man could be so condescending and rude was beyond me. And he kept hitting on me in the most inept fashion. I think I would have found it less irritating if he'd actually asked me out – I would have said no – but at least it would have been better then his half-assed attempts. It was like he lost his nerve at the last second or maybe he found me too intellectually inferior and that offset my 'hotness' which he admitted to me in a moment of weakness.

He was – well, is still I presume – really smart. An astrophysicist. One of the best – or so he kept telling me. Practically every time we bumped into each other in the hallway. He always seemed to find an excuse to bring up just how smart. I'm sure he is but did he really need to brag ALL the time? So many times it seemed to come up almost as a way of pointing out how smart I'm not. At least that's the way I took it. I'm not as smart as him for sure – but I'm not stupid either. Even if sometimes perhaps it might have seemed that way to him.

Now that he's been gone for so long I've started to think about things differently. To see him differently. Maybe it's just because I feel so sorry for the cat every evening. I feel bad because there is nothing I can do to make her feel better. No comfort I can provide her. I can't bring him back to her. As much as she seems to like me, I'm not him. And when it comes down to it – despite all his arrogance and pigheaded behaviour – maybe he wasn't so bad.

There was that time he came over to borrow some milk one evening after work – something he did quite frequently since his overwhelming intellect precluded the ability to remember simple things like shopping for groceries. I started to keep an extra supply of essentials just so I didn't have to listen to him rant about not being able to have this or that. Not that he ever blamed me if I didn't have what he needed – but there was always somebody to blame – someone to shout about. It seemed like he felt the whole world was out to get him – that they didn't understand what it was like to be a genius.

This time, however, I had the milk but he frowned as soon as I opened the door. I was wearing about three sweaters at the time. I must have looked bizarre because even he noticed. If he hadn't worked that out it was certainly hard to ignore the chill that emanated from my apartment.

"Are you kidding me?" I could feel a lecture coming on as soon as he opened his mouth. "Why the hell would you keep your apartment this cold at this time of year? Are you insane?"

I explained to him that my thermostat was broken and had been for a few days. He demanded to know why I hadn't had it fixed. He may as well have called me stupid and useless because that's how I felt. I couldn't afford to pay to have it fixed. I knew he wouldn't leave me alone until I admitted why the thermostat was still broken.

The lecture was fierce. He told me that this whole situation was ridiculous and that I should know better than to risk hypothermia. He ranted about how cold Siberia had been and there was no way he was going to have 'arctic air' anywhere near his apartment – despite the fact that he was probably quite safe down the hall from my frigid place. He listed in great and pompous detail the affects of the aforementioned hypothermia and how it would be a great deal of bother for him to have to call for paramedics.

Then he just bustled his way into my apartment and within half an hour I had blessed warmth again. If he hadn't been such a jerk about it maybe I would have thanked him better – but at the time I was too riled up by his lecturing. It was the same thing the day he had to fix my car for me when it wouldn't start. He was a jerk about that too but I tried to ignore that since I was desperate to get to an important exam. It almost killed me to ask for his help.

He gave me yet another lecture about the importance of a good education – especially in science – and how I should also make the time to learn about maintaining my vehicle. I don't think he meant to imply that I was a useless woman who needed a man to take care of her but it certainly came out that way. Have I mentioned how much he annoyed me?

Though not enough for me to turn down the money he offered me. After that he asked me if I'd run occasional errands for him. I started doing his grocery shopping, his laundry – even some cooking every now and then. At the time I felt like he was being his usual condescending self – ordering me around as if I was there just to serve his genius – but when I look back he wasn't that bad and paid me very well. And I really needed the money.

In fact, it didn't really hit me until he'd been gone for a few months that me running errands for him had only been suggested by him after the thermostat situation, my broken down car and then one of the worst days of my life. Suddenly, it seemed that in his blustering, abrasive way perhaps he was really trying to help me. That he realised my financial situation was a little dire and this was the only way he could do something without really seeming to.

I look back now on how kind he really was to me that day. The one I consider to be one of the worst of my life. Well, maybe kind isn't quite the word. Certainly not with what he said – but his actions were kind.

I had been in a rather nasty relationship at the time. He would have had to have heard some of the stuff that was going on but he never complained. So unlike him really. I kept waiting for him to bitch about the noise but he never said anything. I have to admit that part of me wanted him to. I wanted him to step in and fix everything – even if it meant having to listen to him go on and on about it. To have to endure his scorn.

He caught me crying in the shared laundry. He was immediately embarrassed and flustered. The type of guy who was severely uncomfortable in the presence of a woman in tears.

"Everything okay?" He asked awkwardly. "Obviously, it's not… uh… what's wrong?"

"He broke my computer!" I wailed, too upset to feel ashamed at my display of weakness in front of him.

"Who?"

"My bastard ex-boyfriend!" It was my turn to rant. A little more incoherently than he ever did though. "He dumped me! He said I was too stupid to be at college and then he dumped my whole computer on the floor. There was like this flash and suddenly my thesis is totally inaccessible! I don't know what I'm going to do! My whole life is ruined."

Everything I had been working so hard for was just gone. All the struggle and heartache was for nothing. I didn't even care that my relationship had ended – it was a relief to escape the constant yelling and emotional abuse – but the loss of my thesis was devastating. I collapsed onto the ground then – a complete mess. For a moment it looked like he was going to flee but then thought better of it. He moved over closer to where I sat slumped against a dryer.

"Didn't you back up your work?" He asked in overly patient tones.

"No!" I yelled. "Obviously not! Obviously I'm too stupid to live!"

"Now that's just ridiculous." He held out his hand to me and without thinking I took it. He hauled me to his feet. He had his lecture face on again. "Let's go inspect the damage."

I sat on my couch and endured his constant stream of superiority. How important it was to back up important documents, how important it was to take care of your computer system. He was horrified to discover that I knew next to nothing about my operating system – how much RAM I had or what type of motherboard.

In the end, he took my computer away with him. He was so angry at the damage. Kept muttering about people not respecting technology. He returned it to me the next morning – my thesis rescued and backed up onto several discs – something he waved at me knowingly in an 'I told you so' fashion. Again, I would have been nicer in my thank yous if he hadn't gone on so much about how easy it had been for him because he was such a genius and how he'd replaced my old crappy parts with much better ones that he had lying around. He made it sound like having inferior computer parts was offensive and that I should be ashamed of myself.

I was also offended at the way he had told me that he'd made 'a few notes' – the way he said it he obviously meant 'corrections' – on my thesis. As if once again my inferior intellect insulted his very presence. I was too relieved that it was back safely to complain about that and much, much later on when I actually had calmed down enough to read them I discovered his 'notes' whilst slightly patronising were also quite insightful. My professors were extremely impressed with the changes I made based on those notes. A pity that he had already left by then.

So, it took me a long time – and his absence – to realise it but he really had helped me a great deal. More than just fixing a few things – even if he did whine the entire time. That perhaps there was much more to him than his self-importance and slightly insulting lectures. He wasn't so self-absorbed that he hadn't noticed what was going on in my life at least to some degree. He'd bothered to read my thesis and despite whatever deficiencies he felt it might contain he had at least felt it worthy of comment – and coming from him that was probably a compliment.

The errand money had helped me out but it was nothing compared to what he was paying me to take care of his cat. He'd given me some cash for cat food and the like when he'd gone off to Russia but this time he'd gone to extremes. He'd told me that he wanted to make sure I wouldn't be out of pocket if the cat ever needed treatment by a vet or whatever. He wouldn't be contactable in case of emergencies, he said.

He arranged for money to be transferred into my account every month. He grinned then and made some lame joke about how the cat had to pay for food and lodging. He rambled on about how I could use the money however I wanted – like making sure the environment was a suitable temperature for a feline. He smirked pointedly at my thermostat.

I had no idea how much it was until after he'd left. When the first payment went into my account I nearly died. I called the bank trying to work out if it was a mistake but the manager simply passed on a message about nothing being as important as getting a good education. Even the message had a pompous air but I was grateful. Eventually. When I got over feeling offended.

I blame the cat for reminding me daily that he's not around. For me not being able to stop thinking about him. Wondering if he's okay in that far, far away place. Far, far away – sounds like another galaxy like in Star Wars or something. Does he still deliver those ranting lectures to anyone who will listen? Is he still so irritatingly smug? I wonder if he's pissed off many people and if he's also helped them at the same time the way he helped me. Whether they're also annoyed yet grateful. I wonder if those people truly appreciate him - if they can see the goodness in the man beneath his rather glaring personality flaws.

I wonder if he'll ever return. The cat would certainly be happy if he did. She misses him. A lot. And maybe… just maybe… so do I.


End file.
